


falling forward (back into orbit)

by peachypunk



Series: but damn if there isn't anything sexier than a slender boy with a handgun [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angry Sex, Bittersweet, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, possessive!Billy, the boys are fiesty, the mafia au that no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25851712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachypunk/pseuds/peachypunk
Summary: Steve had wanted out. A normal life with no crew or family or gang bullshit. Unfortunately, Billy always had a way of reeling him back in.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: but damn if there isn't anything sexier than a slender boy with a handgun [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885912
Comments: 22
Kudos: 214





	falling forward (back into orbit)

**Author's Note:**

> I blame this on reading too much Richard Siken poetry & listening to too much angsty Glass Animals

Billy can’t help the grin that spreads across his face when he hears loud noises in the hallway followed by a recognizable voice.

“Don’t give me that shit, Tommy, I know he’s here!” Steve sounds  _ pissed _ ; angry like a hissing cat and so familiar and alive that it makes something tighten in Billy’s stomach. He takes a drag off his cigarette and then nods to one of the men posted by the door. 

“Let him in,” He says, watching as his bodyguard opens the door and Steve stumbles inside, hair disheveled and pink dusting his cheeks and he’s so beautiful, even when he looks like he’s about to take a swing at Billy’s head.

“Hey Stevie,” Billy drawls and Steve glares daggers at him.

“You’re an  _ asshole _ ,” He spits and Billy can see his two men tense. He stands from his desk quickly, Steve tracking his movements like a hawk, and dismisses his bodyguards with a quick gesture. They’re newer, so Billy knows they’ll leave the loft without question, but they’ll stay posted somewhere in the building. They don’t know yet that Steve isn’t a threat.

Billy shrugs, turning his attention back to the seething college boy in front of him, once they’re alone. “And why am I an asshole, Harrington?” He asks, moving out from behind his desk. He brushes past Steve to get to the kitchen. 

“My friend Dave is in the hospital,” Steve says, an accusation, as Billy takes a final drag off of his cigarette and stubs it out before he grabs a water bottle from the fridge. “Says a bunch of dudes jumped him while he was on his way home from work.” Steve continues, tracing Billy’s footsteps until only the kitchen counter is between them. He tilts his head, eyes flashing. ”Says they all had the same kind of tattoo.”

“Same one you have, pretty boy,” Billy states and takes a drink, maintaining eye contact throughout. It’s not a question and he can see the way Steve’s jaw clenches.

“Why did you send your guys to beat the shit out of him?” Steve grits out and Billy snorts.

“This the same  _ friend _ you’ve been spreading your legs for?” He asks, overtly casual, but his eyes have a dangerous glint to them. Steve laughs, bright and startled, and then gives him an incredulous look.

“Don’t see how that’s any of your fucking business,” Steve says matter of factly and Billy doesn’t  _ actually _ have a retort for that. Steve’s life isn’t his business anymore. At least, according to Steve it isn’t. They’ve had a difference of opinion on what Billy’s  _ business _ is for a couple of years now.

“Billy-” Steve says warningly.

“What?” Billy sets the water bottle on the counter and leans against the stainless steel, “It was a hazard of the job. Simple as that.” Steve stares at him, searching his face for something before he shakes his head.

“You are unbelievable sometimes,” Steve tells him.

“Oh, _I know_ I’m unbelievable, baby,” Billy leers and Steve sets his jaw. He pushes away from the counter, away from Billy, with a scowl and makes a beeline towards the front door, grumbling under his breath. Billy watches him for a second before he sighs loudly.

“He’s a gunrunner for the Cortez crew. One of Damien’s nephews,” Billy says and Steve freezes right in the middle of the living room. Billy tries not to smile. 

“You remember Damien from the Cortez’s, right? Always dealt the real heavy shit.” Billy continues, tilting his head as he saunters up to Steve, infiltrating his space. He can see the wariness in Steve’s eyes as he processes it, turning it over in his mind and trying to reconcile what Billy is saying with the “friend” that he knows.

“He liked to come around your dad’s place; smoke cigars and drink whiskey with him.” Billy reminds him, voice low and smooth, watching Steve carefully and stepping even closer. Billy gives him a toothy smile. 

“You always made us stop playing basketball and go inside because he creeped you out watching us from the porch.” He teases darkly, dragging a finger down Steve’s chest and they’re so close now that Billy can feel the heat radiating off of him. His smile grows mean.

“His  _ nephew _ is who you’re letting come crawl into bed at night,” Billy says, digging his finger into Steve’s sternum and Steve twitches, his eyes flashing as he scowls again.

“ _ Bullshit. _ ” Steve spits out, slapping Billy’s hand away. “He’s not a Cortez,” He says and Billy watches him for a few more seconds, draws the tension out before he snorts and breaks it.

“No,” Billy admits, “But he could have been one. You don’t  _ know _ , Stevie.” 

“I know  _ you, _ ” Steve says and he looks at Billy like he’s nothing. Like he’s not the son of the head of the most dangerous family in Chicago. Like he’s dirt under Harrington’s shoe and it aches like fingers pressing into a bruise.

Anger burns through Billy, white-hot and vicious. “Yeah, you know me? Then why did you come here?” He asks, a force pushing into Steve’s space and making him take a step back. The air seems to almost crackle around them.

“What did you think was going to happen?” Billy asks, voice rough as he crowds Steve up against the back of the couch. Steve shakes his head minutely, swallowing hard and wetting his lips as his gaze drops to Billy’s mouth. Billy raises an eyebrow. 

“What did you  _ want  _ to happen?” He asks, slotting a leg between Steve’s and making his breath hitch. 

“Billy-” Steve pants, “I can’t- me and Dave-” He struggles to say even as his hips rock against Billy’s thigh so sweetly. Billy smiles wolfishly and runs his tongue over his teeth. He knows Steve is asking for him to be nice. To stop touching him and let him have his romantic fantasy with his little boyfriend or whatever. 

But Billy isn’t nice. And Steve knows that.

“I don’t care,” Billy hisses and surges forward to kiss him hard. Steve melts into it, fisting his hands into Billy’s curls as they kiss, desperate and messy, while Billy fumbles with undoing Steve’s belt.

Steve moans into his mouth and pushes away from the couch, walking them towards where he knows Billy’s bed is. His fingers tangle in the bottom of Billy’s shirt and he pulls away from Billy’s mouth to tug it off of him, throwing it carelessly across the room as Billy finally gets his belt off.

Steve drags his blunt nails down Billy’s chest as he sucks a stinging mark into his neck and Billy lets out a grunt before he shoves Steve onto the bed, making the other gasp before he hits the soft sheets.

“Strip. Now.” Billy commands and Steve only hesitates for a split second before he reaches back to tug his shirt off. Billy leans over and unzips his fly, yanking Steve’s pants and underwear off impatiently.

Steve’s cock is already hard, smacking against his stomach as soon as it’s released, and Billy gets distracted by the sight, devouring the pretty picture Steve makes splayed out in his bed. A bottle of lube hits his chest.

“Are you just gonna stare all damn day or are you going to fuck me?” Steve challenges and something burns in Billy’s chest. He fixes Steve a look, watching the way Steve’s tongue darts out to wet his lips as he tracks the movement of Billy’s fingers, gaze burning into them as he thumbs the button of his jeans and slides them down. 

Billy crawls onto the bed, skin hot as he moves against Steve, slow and predatory. His hands ghost over Steve’s ribs, drinking in the way his the muscles of his stomach jump at the touch, and leaves a burning trail of kisses and nips up the pale column of his neck. 

He can almost feel Steve’s breath catch in his throat, the air thick and heady between them, and Steve turns his head to try and capture Billy’s mouth, but Billy pulls away. He shoves at Steve’s shoulder to get him to turn over as he reaches behind him to grab the lube.

Steve settles onto his belly, glancing over his shoulder when he feels two slick fingers against his hole. Billy gives him a wicked grin and slowly pushes a finger in, making Steve groan and hang his head between his forearms. Billy doesn’t give him any time to adjust, just starts thrusting the finger into him lazily. A second finger quickly joins the first and Steve hisses at the sudden intrusion. Billy’s fingers are  _ thick _ and the stretch and burn goes right to his aching cock.

“ _ Fucker _ ,” Steve swears, even as he rolls his hips back and Billy chuckles darkly, draping himself over Steve’s back.

“Just giving you what you asked for, princess,” Billy says and kisses his neck before he sinks his teeth into the junction of Steve’s neck and shoulder, making him hiss and squirm. 

There’s going to be a mark there. Billy always loved leaving marks on any inch of Steve he could get a hold of. It didn’t help that he would catch Steve afterwards sometimes, tracing a finger over the purple-red bruises and raised pink scratches with pupil-blown eyes and a smirk on his pretty face.

Steve doesn’t stop him this time either.

He rocks back onto Billy’s fingers with a moan. “Fuck, Billy,  _ come on _ -” He urges, clenching around the fingers as he tries to fuck himself on them. Billy pulls back with a groan, raking the nails of his other hand down Steve’s spine.

“Yeah,” He breathes and pulls his fingers out so fast, Steve nearly chokes on the empty feeling. Billy settles back onto his knees, popping open the lube again and slicking himself up. He smacks Steve’s ass sharply when he squirms.

“Will you hurry up?” Steve snaps, “Or should I find someone who can actually-” He chokes on his words as Billy sinks into him with a slow, unforgiving thrust, fingers fisting into the sheets as Billy’s cock fills him up so good.

“Yeah? Not so mouthy now that you got what you wanted, pretty boy,” Billy grunts, fingers digging into Steve’s hips as he starts to thrust into his tight heat. Steve moans, shivering as Billy’s cock drags inside of him, the sweet burn mixing with sparks of pleasure at each thrust. 

Billy grabs a handful of soft, brown hair and tugs, drawing a breathy moan from Steve’s lips as he starts to rock back into Billy’s movements. 

“Sweet thing, huh, now that you’re all stuffed full of my cock,” Billy coos, tugging on his hair harder and heat pools in Steve’s belly. “Can’t get enough, can you?” Billy asks, releasing his grip on Steve’s hair to place a hand in-between his shoulder blades and shove him down, face pressed into the mattress, as Steve grunts and tries to give as good as he gets.

Billy’s ruthless though, setting a punishing pace and knowing the exact angle to hit the spot that has Steve gasping as sparks shoot up his spine and heat coils tight in his stomach.

“Oh fuck, oh- I’m gonna-” Steve pants.

Billy grunts. “You gonna come for me, Stevie?” He growls, reaching down to get a hand around his cock. His fingers barely brushing over the head before Steve’s toes are curling and he shouts, coming hard, wet and sticky, all over Billy’s hand and the sheets. Billy strokes him through it, groaning as his own thrusts become more erratic.

“Fuck  _ baby _ ,” Billy groans, biting a mark right above the tattoo on Steve’s shoulder and grinds in deep as he comes. Steve can feel it; hot and wet and  _ filthy _ inside of him as he comes down from his own orgasm.

“Fuck, I missed you,” Billy murmurs after a moment, pressing a kiss to the back of Steve’s neck before he rolls off of him, panting and sweaty as he melts into the mattress. The sound of their breathing fills the room and Billy watches lazily as Steve sits up, drinking in the sight of his pale back dotted with moles and Billy’s fading scratches and marks, and reaches for his jeans. 

“No round two?” Billy asks, grabbing a cigarette and his lighter from the bedside table and lighting up. Steve zips up his jeans, nose wrinkling in disgust when he must feel Billy’s come leaking out of him. The idea of Steve going back to his little boyfriend or whatever still all wet with his come makes something dark and warm settle in Billy’s chest.

“Don’t come near me again,” Steve doesn’t look at him when he says it. Billy raises an eyebrow, blowing smoke out through his nose.

“You came to  _ me, _ ” Billy points out but Steve presses on.

“Or Dave,” Steve says pointedly, snatching his shirt off the ground.

“Stevie,” Billy says softly. Because sometimes Steve needed it after they did this; for Billy to be gentle after being so rough, but Steve snaps, yanking his shirt over his head.

“No! I  _ left _ . A year ago, I left because I didn’t want any of this  _ shit _ anymore. I want a normal life.” Steve says, anger and desperation dripping from the words. “No crew. No family. None of this bullshit.” 

“Steve,” Billy’s voice is low and controlled, but he didn’t get this last time. Not a word of warning before Steve dropped off a year ago and now he doesn’t know if he’s asking Steve to stop talking or urging him on.

“None of  _ your _ bullshit,” Steve says, meaningfully, and their eyes lock for a second and then Steve is gone. Out the door in two seconds flat because he’s always been a quick, sneaky bastard. 

“Fuck,” Billy lets his head thunk onto the headboard and breathes smoke out of his lungs, letting it curl around him as he tries to ignore the scent of sweat and sex and Harrington on his sheets.

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know if you liked :) I actually have more ideas planned for this 'verse if I can find time to write & people like it
> 
> or give me ideas/feedback on tumblr @peachypunk22


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